


Eyeglass Lens

by saint_vulgaris



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Accents, Gen, Glasses, I can’t remember when I wrote this lol, One Shot, Richtofen’s in his own body for this, dream - Freeform, one use of the fuck word, this is kinda old but oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saint_vulgaris/pseuds/saint_vulgaris
Summary: Richtofen pays Samuel a visit in his dreams.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Eyeglass Lens

**Author's Note:**

> Oldish but I still like it so you get to see it too! Btw, sorry if Samuel is out of character, this was the first and only time I’ve ever written him :,)

“You really should clean your glasses vonce in a vhile, Sammy.”

Samuel wakes with a start upon hearing the German’s voice. His vision is blurry, but he can see Richtofen sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, holding Samuel’s glasses and wiping the lenses.

”I don’t know how you can see out of zhese,” Richtofen continues, holding the pair of glasses up to his eyes. “But zhat’s a little better. Here.”

The German hands Samuel his glasses back, and the American puts them on, studying the man before him. Richtofen is far from pleasant to look at; from his crazy eyes and malevolent grin to the Major General uniform that would give anyone chills, Samuel thinks the German might as well be wearing a _Warning: Pure Evil_ sign around his neck.

”Why are you here?” Samuel asks, slightly worried.

Richtofen giggles. “Vhat, am I not allowed to visit mein favourite helper?”

”You only show up when you want something from me. And usually that something is never good.”

”Oh, Sammy,” Richtofen chides him, gently patting his cheek. “You’re so suspicious. But, _ja,_ I do have a question.”

_Here it comes._ Samuel already knows what the German is going to ask him.

”Vhy haven’t you started building zhe guillotine yet?”

”The others–“

”Vhat about zhem?” Richtofen asks calmly.

The American feels like when he was a child, getting in trouble with his parents. “They won’t listen. They’re dead set on following that Maxis guy.”

Richtofen’s eyes narrow. “Zhey really zhink zhat arrogant fucking _schweinehund_ is going to help zhem? Samuel, he’s just using you for his own schtupid goals.” The German’s tone is ice cold. “Trust me, it’s all he’s good at.”

”S-so what do I do then?” Samuel asks, slightly panicked.

”Tell zhem vhat I told you: zhat Maxis is going to kill you all.” Richtofen looks at Samuel with something akin to sympathy. “If zhey shtill don’t listen, ve may have to build it ourselves.”

”You mean _I_ have to build it myself.”

The German laughs. “Semantics, my dear American. Now get some rest; I’ve kept you avake long enough, _ja?”_

He takes Samuel’s glasses off, setting them beside the American’s bed.

_“Gute nacht, mein freund.”_


End file.
